Film

The biggest question about Sex Tape is why, oh, why?

If you still go to see Sex Tape after reading this, you have only yourself to answer to.

It’s not sexy, it’s not funny. It is awful.

So many questions were swirling through my head as I sat through Sex Tape during a Sunday matinee at Shoppingtown.

What was Jason Segal thinking when he wrote a screenplay like this for himself to star in? Did he believe this was going to convince everybody that he’s a power player who is glad How I Met Your Mother is now finally in his rearview mirror?

What was Cameron Diaz’s agent thinking when she or he told the actress to sign a contract to star as Segal’s wife in this one? Was somebody holding a gun to either one of their heads?

What were the three women who looked like they were in their 60s thinking when they got up and left the theater midway through the film? Was it because one more sex scene, this one between the Segal-Diaz characters’ best friends in the back seat of their car, pushed them over the edge, or was it because this culmination to another ludicrous scene was the plot straw that broke the camel’s back?

Why did the loud-guy behind us who sounded like he was in his 80s and his slightly quieter wife who sounded like she was in her 70s choose to come to this movie? Did they walk into the wrong theater by mistake and fail to realize it? Did they walk into the wrong theater by mistake and get tantalized by the title? Did he have to keep telling her about Segal’s character getting bit by that big dog every time it happened like they were sitting in their living room?

Why did the other dozen or so people in the theater sit quietly and endure the entire 94 minutes?

Why wasn’t there another opening movie this weekend that screamed “pick me! pick me!” more loudly to me than this one?

How long would it take my dear wife Karen to forgive me for taking her along with me to see this movie?

How in the world could I allow myself to chuckle out loud three times, even sardonically, at this movie?

If you’re not into rhetorical questions:

Sex Tape is awful.

Watch the trailer here:

I did make the mistake of going to see it, and I do write this weekly film blog review, so hold on tight as I do my duty.

Directed by Jake Kasdan, it’s the story of blogger Annie and music industry iPad-loving guy Jay, who wake up two kids into their marriage to discover that their sex life ain’t what it used to be. Annie is telling people on her family blog about how hot they were in the sack when they met in college. We see this in flashbacks, but ole Cameron and Jason look like old Cameron and Jason to me. And why would somebody who’s writing a family blog be sharing sex stories so starkly? And the scenes aren’t graphic but they are too simulated for my taste. And Annie gets the chance to sell her blog to a big family-product company led by a weirdo played very weirdly by Rob Lowe. She has to apologize for the sex blog. To celebrate the sale of the blog, she wants to have sex like it used to be with Jay, but, well, he isn’t up to it. She suggest making a sex tape. They do, for three hours, using “Joy of Sex” as their guide. Jay doesn’t erase it afterward, per her orders, and his app downloads their video to all the iPads he’s given away to friends and family.

It’s like hitting “reply all” in the old days, but worse, of course.

The sordid tale is truly wretched because it’s not really sexy, and it’s not really funny, and oh-my-God, they get elementary-school aged kids involved in the plot, too.

If you still go to see Sex Tape after reading this, you have only yourself to answer to.

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Mark BialczakMark Bialczak is a veteran journalist who has lived in the Syracuse area since 1983. In early 2013, he was set free to write about whatever he wants. Click here to read Mark’s BLOG.

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